


First Impressions

by dragonwriter24cmf



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Canon - Manga, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Protective Lord Walsh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Esther's thoughts on her first encounter with Lord Walsh in the streets of Londinium. Chapter 51 of the manga.
Kudos: 7





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to the creator of Trinity Blood.

**First Impressions**

Esther stares at the man kneeling across from her, trying to sort out the thoughts running through her mind, the mingled apprehension and relief and concern. She's been trained as an AX agent for quick responses, but this man, like Father Nightroad, defies a quick response.

She's grateful to be alive, of course, and even more grateful to note that the pope is still breathing. Unconscious, but still breathing. Of course, his body isn't as well trained as hers, and he ran out of air before she did. That, and she knows he hates loud noises, and they often cause him to faint. It's no surprise he's still unconscious.

What is a surprise is the startling riot of emotions and thoughts that chase themselves through her mind at the sight of their rescuer.

She's aware, first and foremost, of a sense of gratitude, followed sharply by concern. It takes her a moment, what with the shock of being shot at and nearly drowned, before she places the reason for her fears. The man before her is a Methuselah (she knows from the way he speaks of his gel and his concerns). More than that, his face and voice are a  _ very _ close match to the face and voice of the person who tried to kill her less than two days ago. It's so close she has to fight to prevent herself from immediately pulling a gun on him. Moments later, she recognizes him. Lord Walsh. The strange man who presented himself before Mary the night before. The man she asked Father Nightroad to follow. The man he disappeared following.

It comes to her then, that she should be afraid. But even as she realizes that, she realizes that he too, is vulnerable. In many ways, far more than she. It occurs to her then that the slightest move on her part right now can hurt him. With his UV gel gone, his only protection from the sun that will burn him to ash is the clothing he wears. A brush against his gloves and his hands will burn. All she has to do is knock the hood of his cloak back, and he will be lying on the ground, writhing in torment. She's seen what sunlight does to Methuselah. Even strong as he is, fast as he is...one wrong move and he will burn.

Even as the thought comes to mind, she finds herself dismissing it. She knows his vulnerability, and has no desire to use it against him. She wonders why.

In part, it is because he  _ has  _ just saved them. It argues against the possibility of his having ill intentions. But there are other reasons, and Esther has been trained too well to ignore them. After all, part of being an officer of the church, and a saint, is knowing your own thoughts and emotions.

He speaks Abel's name casually. But not  _ Father _ Nightroad, as most refer to him. No, he calls the priest  _ Abel _ Nightroad...as though they are acquaintances. Friends, perhaps, even. More than that, the relief she feels when he says that he knows where Abel is, and can lead her there. His words imply the priest is safe, though they give no explanation as to why Father Nightroad didn't come himself. Abel is safe, and that is what matters.

It also brings to mind the realization that Lord Walsh came to find her. And thinking that, she realizes that this too, is perhaps one of the reasons she wants to trust him. That he came for her at Abel's request, despite the sun that shines around them. He came for her, and his only protection from a gruesome and agonizing death, from torment beyond imagining is a fragile layer of gel and a long cloak. But still he's there.

And he sacrificed his protection to save her. That carries a weight all it's own. But even that, Esther knows, is only a part of the thoughts chasing through her. Though she knows there should be no other reason for her sudden trust and liking for this man, she finds more than one lurking in the shadowed corners of her mind.

Perhaps it's the knowledge that she's never really been raised to hate Methuselah. Bishop Laura certainly never encouraged it, and Father Nightroad is...well, he would leap in front of a silver bullet as quickly as he would a normal one, and protect a Methuselah as quickly as he would her. Despite the darkness she felt toward Gyula, that was dispersed by his death, and his grief. She's met no other Methuselah she could truly hate since, and many that she loved. Like Schera...a tovarish. Or Ion, close friend and compatriot. Or Astha, who is Abel's friend more than hers, but one she admires nonetheless.

Perhaps it's the way he supports Alessandro's limp form in his arms. He might be concerned about the danger to his body, but he's making no move to rush them. He holds the boy pope in his arms as easily as he would a child, and as carefully. He's already verified the youth is breathing...but his behavior isn't perfunctory. There is genuine concern in his movements.

Perhaps it's the way he first looks at her. The strange light of almost-recognition, then sorrow, and something that seems almost like regret. The way he addresses her in a name that isn't hers, breathed in a soft, sorrowful way she doesn't understand. He covers it well, whatever it is he feels, turning it away, but she knows she saw it. More than that, she recognizes the expression, because she's seen it before. The way Abel sometimes looks at her. Abel is more subtle, but perhaps the memory for him is more distant. Still, the expression is the same. Affection, loneliness, loss...and recognition that carries, ever so faintly, a kind of hope.

It's that thought that decides her, finally. That lets her trust him to lead them away from this scene of destruction. Not just that he saved them, or that he knows Abel, but that he has Abel's expression, Abel's too knowing, too protected gaze.

Her first impression of Father Nightroad was a lonely, strong and generous man. In all her time with him, she's been frequently exasperated, sometimes scared, but she's never, ever, been sorry she followed him. She's known from the beginning that trusting her life to his hands was worth the gamble, no matter what dark secrets he hides from her. Her first impression of this man is the same.

Esther nods, then rises and stumbles along behind him, away from would-be assassins and the carnage left behind. She doesn't know where he's taking her, what conditions they'll be in, but she doesn't really care. She knows she's safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little peek inside Esther's head. Couldn't help it.


End file.
